Category Archives: Writing and Prose

with you by my side.

I wish to rise to rays of sunlight seeping through the curtains, with you by my side.

I wish to lay in bed listening to the early birds, with you by my side.

I wish to take a stroll in the cool sunlight of a summer morning, with you by my side.

I wish to have endless cups of coffee on the front porch, with you by my side.

I wish to sit under the heat and get tan, with you by my side.

I wish to sip on ice cold lemonade, with you by my side.

I wish to hear the tree leaves rustle as the sun leaves our sight, with you by my side.

I wish to fall asleep reading at night, with you by my side.

I wish all of this not knowing why, but that’s okay with you by my side.

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There is always a light at the end of the tunnel

The Oxford dictionary definition of tunnel is as follows: 

noun

  1. An artificial underground passage, especially one built through a hill or under a building, road, or river.

    ‘a road tunnel through the Pyrenees’
    ‘the Mersey tunnel’

A tunnel is, by definition, a passage. A tunnel is a means for moving through or past something. A tunnel is a device, if you will, that has been implemented to get from one place to another; or from one situation to another. A tunnel represents progress, it represents a transition, a movement, a change of state or mind or place. And change means that if you persevere, things will be different. Things will not remain the way they are. They never do, because change is an inherent part of our lives. So maybe life won’t always be a walk in the park; sometimes it’ll be a walk in the dark but that doesn’t mean that darkness is the ultimate constituent of your life. Maybe it just means you’re going through a tunnel with poor lighting.

There is always a light at the end of the tunnel.

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The secrets you keep are your loneliness

The secrets you keep are your loneliness. They are your solitude.
Sometimes they’re your anxiety, and sometimes they’re your peace of mind.

They are the walls you build between yourself and the rest of the world; your fortress.
Your fortress is sometimes your stronghold and sometimes your fragility;
Sometimes an arena to dance freely in, and sometimes an ocean of burdens you’re drowning in.

The secrets you keep are always your loneliness.

 

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Treasure chest

I remember enjoying your smile.
I remember enjoying your company.
I remember how that evolved
Into missing your smile,
And craving your company.

I remember butterflies.
I remember sparks.
I remember sunshine.
I remember rain.

I remember it all.

I miss it all,
And I wish that we could go right back.

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Geodes

Have you ever noticed how somethings are only nice from within? How you can’t see the beauty of certain things from the outside, how you have to be on the inside to understand? Kind of like a Geode. An ordinary grey rock on the outside, but mesmerizing on the inside. Or like Love. Just another feeling when you’re out of it, but a fly-me-to-the-moon kind of sensation when you’re deep in it.

Consider that for a moment. Maybe it’ll restore your hope. Maybe it’ll remind you that there’s always another side to things. I don’t know. It just seems worth considering.

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Overcome & become

It takes a lot (out of you) to overcome and to become. Yet, the final result is greater than where you initiated.

It’s like in maths, when you subtract a negative integer from a positive integer you can end up with a greater number than you started off with.  That’s a confusing concept when you first come across it, right? It’s hard to explain. In fact most of the time you don’t seek to explain it, you just memorize:

– – = + because 2 – – 2 = 4

When you’re trying to overcome a bad experience, the loss of a loved one, or maybe just the fact that you disappointed yourself… it eats away at you for a while. It seems like every passing day just gets worse instead of better. But sometimes, it has to get worse to get better. You just have to keep reminding yourself that it does get better, no matter what. It’s a process, and that process includes feeling tiny in a huge world, which in turn makes all your footsteps feel minute and insignificant. That process also includes cocooning (or rolling up in your duvet like a sushi, which ever analogy you prefer). But eventually, it includes you spreading your wings too. Think about it, even a caterpillar takes 9 to 14 days to grow to its full size, and pupate; and then it takes an additional 9 to 14 days for it to metamorphose into a beautiful butterfly (plus it has to wait for its wings to dry and be “flight ready”). And a caterpillar is born to become a butterfly. That’s basically its entire purpose in life. It’s only acceptable that it doesn’t come as second nature to us.

It’s supposed to be a challenge. It’s supposed to feel inexplicable. But, that which is a challenge is predisposed to be overcome. Just as that which is inexplicable is in disposition of becoming explicable. I’m sure the guy who realized that two negative signs, once juxtaposed, become a positive sign, did not figure it out over night, and I’m pretty positive (pun not intended) that he probably grew a couple of white hairs in the process of trying to explain the inexplicable.

I guess we have to not lose sight of that. We have to be self-aware. We need to identify our strengths and weaknesses. We need to recognize that what may be a challenge to one, may just be “easy peasy” to another. And we need to acknowledge that all of this is okay. It’s fine. It’s A-O.K.

Just take all the fucking time in the world and become a big beautiful ass butterfly

(or become a positive integer, whatever floats your boat).

 

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Being single

Essentially, I think that’s all we ever are: single. Maybe not in the exact way that the word connotes. I don’t want to repeat cliches like, “we are born alone and we die alone”, but that doesn’t make any of them less true. We are all fundamentally alone. We touch lives and we share lives, but that doesn’t make us not alone. It just makes us not lonely.

There’s an indispensable difference between loneliness, and being alone. While loneliness describes being destitute of companions, being alone just means being apart from others which we all are. Mentally, emotionally, physically. Everything and anything which we don’t say out loud, whether it be with words, with writing, or with the emotions that do surface, is our own and it is isolated from everyone and anyone we share the world with.

Relationships allow you to experience this world with someone you care for. But this feeling of companionship is slightly more illusory. Other people can only vicariously comprehend your life through their own eyes. You are never not alone.

So, being single should come like second nature to us, right? Being single should be nothing but mastering the art of being alone, which we all fundamentally are. Doing things for yourself, and striving to be a better version of yourself everyday, that’s what being single should be about. Until you get lonely.

Most often being alone morphs into loneliness. When you start getting tired of discovering and re-discovering both the world, and yourself, and begin feeling unsatisfied with your inability to share your progress with somebody, things get gloomy. You want someone to take interest in your passions, someone to flourish with. Someone you can grow to love, because it gets lonely at the top. Cliche, I know, but maybe cliches are worth more than immediate dismissal. They exemplify common thoughts. And in this particular case, perhaps they offer a reason for us to feel less lonely in our conviction to master being single in adulthood.

Perhaps then, the underlying difficulty in getting over a break up, or forgetting about someone, is to do with all the sharing rather than all the loving. Maybe what we struggle with is not the absence of the hand of a loved one, but the absence of a hand that we grew used to holding, and the absence of a soul to listen and adore the things you adore. It’s not evident at first. You fail to see it through all the brooding. But when all the heartbreak is over, we start longing for that overwhelming warmth in our hearts. We seek a new partner to experience new things with, to share with.  How did that old saying go again? Sharing is caring? Told you cliches are worth more than immediate dismissal. 

The next time you find yourself struggling to move on after a break up, or you feel overcome with the desire for a significant other, remind yourself that we are all alone, and if you start to feel empty, it’s not because you’re alone, it’s because you’re lonely. And hey, guess what? There are so many lonely people. Ergo there are so many people who can’t wait to share their lives with others, to interact, to communicate, and possibly do all of this with you… All you really have to do is listen.

 

 

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Places to find hope:

in the books you read,

in the music you hear,

in the everyday tune of life,

in the people you meet,

in the strangers you catch smiling on the streets,

in the eyes of a baby that won’t stop staring at you in awe,

in window reflections,

in the sea,

in the sky,

in the stars,

in the daisy strewn gardens,

in knee-high fields full of dandelions,

in the ladybird that may have just landed on your hand,

in yourself,

 

 

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Not so happy, and not so new

I woke up this morning to the terrible news that there had been an attack in Istanbul in a night club. In fact not just a nightclub; one of the most popular and renowned nightclubs of Istanbul, a nightclub that is about a 10 minute walk from where I live, a nightclub that is at the heart of Istanbul.

It saddens me that I am not so surprised by this grotesque massacre. At 00:00 last night I hoped with all my heart that nothing ‘bad’ would happen. Sadly though, what is the new year but just another day? And what better day to attack than on a day that we are overcome by restored hopes and dreams: the early hours of the 1st of January. One man with a gun reminds you of the prevailing presence of fear and hopelessness humanity has become well acquainted with.

Speculate all you want. Do your politics. Shut down Islam. Whatever. It doesn’t change the reality.

People are dying. And some guy with a gun just shot down your hopes too. 

 

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01.01.2017

The first of January. It’s usually a day spent curing hangovers, maybe doing a little bit of reminiscing, and maaaybe a day to get going with some of those new year’s resolutions. It’s also a day when a lot of media outlets publish a ‘best-of’ for the year that has gone by.
So, I scrolled through my Facebook page and it’s mainly covered in blood with a tad of happiness here and there. Attack, after attack, after attack, after bomb, after bomb, after bomb, after death, after death, after hashtag, after hashtag, after hashtag.
We are the world and the world is bleeding.
We are a planet. We are Earth. And the way I was taught, here on Earth, every life counts for one . Nobody’s life is more important than that of another. Everyone is different and everyone is important. Everyone is a heart. And together we are supposed to be one big fat beating heart. We are supposed to have a mutual understanding that we are all different and that that’s okay. Do you know why? Because we all share this planet, and it is just as much mine as it is yours, and it if just as much mine as it is a panda’s; and because much to NASA’s dismay, there aren’t any other planets that we can live on (yet) so we might as well just quit striving for hegemony, pointing fingers, and nit-picking.
(Because like it or not we’ve all got to fucking share.)
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